


Eris's Bridegroom: 004 Insides

by abundantlyqueer



Series: Eris's Bridegroom [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantlyqueer/pseuds/abundantlyqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>”You aren’t haunted by the war. You miss it.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Eris's Bridegroom: 004 Insides

**Author's Note:**

> The ‘100 prompts’ thingie, done to the tune of John’s experiences in Afghanistan.
> 
> Buyer beware, the sum total of this is going to be bare-faced glamorization of war and the (mostly) men who have loved her.

“Don’t look,” Bill says as he rips the tapes of John’s body armor apart. “John? Do not look!”

John jerks his head up and back, teeth bared, but he can’t tear his eyes from Bill’s face. John’s lying on the bare metal floor of a helicopter, with McGuire kneeling behind him to cradle John’s head and shoulders in his lap. John clutches at McGuire’s arm with his right hand, leaving dark red prints on McGuire’s pale camouflage sleeve. McGuire wraps his hand across John’s forehead, partly comforting, but mostly pinning John’s head back so that he can’t look down. John’s shaking hectically, his left heel slipping and skidding on the floor with his body’s desperate desire to just scramble away from the pain.

Bill peels John’s armor apart, and John feels as though he’s being drenched in ice water. McGuire’s fingertips tighten on John’s temple a little, and Bill flicks a glance at him.

John’s breath turns from fierce surges to faster, more frantic gasps.

“Tell me,” he manages to hiss.

He swivels his eyes downwards, but with McGuire holding his head in place all he can see is bright blurred red at the lower periphery of his vision.

“ _Tell me!_ ”

“Cavitation at the exit wound – um, it’s maybe three inches across,” Bill says, and John jerks his heel hard against the floor. “Bleeding’s heavy but generalized – do you hear me, John? No arterial bleeding.”

John squeezes his eyes shut for a second in acknowledgement, and his breathing turns ferocious again.

“Bone fragments embedded in the surface, a lot,” Bill says. “Um, not ribs … flat … ”

“That’s my shoulder blade,” John whines, pushing his head back into McGuire’s stomach.

“Good breath sounds on both sides, respiration and pulse still firm,” Bill says, “patient conscious and responsive.”

Bill starts tearing open a dressing pack.

“Show me first,” John says.

“Wha – John, no.”

“Fucking show me!” John shouts, jerking against McGuire so hard that he actually manages to lift himself by a couple of inches. “I have to see.”

“Lie down!” Bill yells, darting his face almost into John’s. “You’ll fucking bleed out if you keep this shit up.”

“Please,” John says, eyes wild. “Please, show me.”

“Fucking – _doctor_ ,” Bill says plaintively.

He scoops his arm behind John’s neck as McGuire lets him go.

“Two seconds,” Bill says. “Two seconds, and you lie down like a fucking lamb until I tell you different.”

John manages a fractional nod.

“Here we go,” Bill says.

He lifts John's head, helping him turn it and tuck his chin to look down, and John's eyes instantly map the dark cavity and the long tears in the surrounding flesh and the numerous smaller gashes with bits of bright red bone peeping through the pulped meat. Bill eases him back down into McGuire’s lap.

“Okay,” John says, eyes fixed on the fuselage overhead. “Okay … good. That’s good. That’s … okay.”

As Bill presses the dressing onto John’s chest, John closes his eyes and concentrates on pushing his breath in and out.


End file.
